The Muse that Soothes the Savage Beast
by VampireAldys
Summary: Several students from the Institute attend a production of a famous musical, including Hank. Then there is a bit more interplay with someone in the play with the X-Men. Be sure to read author's note at the end. Edited, reworked, and a new title!
1. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

As extra credit for Kurt Wagner's drama class and Xi'an's French class, students and professors alike from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters attended the finale performance of the musical The Phantom of the Opera in a local theater just outside of the city. All of the students sat in floor seats, and the adults sat the box seats that are on either side of the lighting and sound box. Jean and Scott sat together in a box with another couple, taking the pleasure of a romantic date. Kurt and Xi'an sat in the other box to discuss the musical and go over ideas of ways for their students to get more out of the show than just watching it. The Professor and Hank even joined Kurt and Xi'an in their box to benefit from a night at the theater.

As they are ushered to their box, Hank grumbled as he adjusted his coat and tie, "I can't believe you have convinced me to come to this. You know I detest these restrictive suits; it makes me look like a ludicrous farce."

"You can't stay in lab coat all the time, Hank. In fact, you need time out of the lab as well. Besides your classes, which are right down the hall from your lab, and going to the kitchen for meals and your daily Twinkie fix, you are in the lab from morning until night. We need to show the students that it is possible to have a normal life outside of the school, let alone the laboratory."

"Maybe I have been a bit preoccupied with lab work, but a musical, Charles?"

"This isn't your run-of-the-mill, banal musical. Think of it more as a 'modern opera', and perhaps you will enjoy it," he replied as he began to page through the playbill. "Look here," he said, indicating the cast list, "both Christine and the Phantom are portrayed by Irish performers."

Hank opened his own program and read the bios of the different actors in the musical. Just as he was nearing the bios of the main characters, the lights dimmed and the musical began. He sat back and watched as the play opened with the auction, then the powerful overture began as the chandelier was raised from the stage up to its proper place on the ceiling. _It begins captivatingly enough,_ he thought right before he flinched at the sound of Carlotta's high-pitched, operatic tone. Leaning towards the Professor, Hank whispered with a hand over one ear, "Please don't inform me the entire production is just this shrill cacophony." The Professor just shook his head and brought a finger to his mouth as his eyes stayed locked on the stage.

Hank was relieved when the sharp-voiced diva left the stage in an angered huff. Then the theater's new managers were introduced to the young, attractive chorus dancer, Christine: dressed in the slightly revealing ballet costume, that did well to accentuate the lean curves of her physique, for her character and her dark brunette curls pinned up in and elegant bun with a few curls brushing the back of her neck and framing her face. Although they were dubious of her talent, the managers gave her an opportunity to prove herself because of the new opening in the cast. The entire cast on the stage, the audience in the theater house, as well as Hank and the others in the box seats, were mesmerized by the smooth, innocent nature in her voice and in her demeanor. He flipped through his playbill to find her name in the bios:

**Kady O'Halloran** (Christine) – Kady is a 19 year-old who also works as a waitress in a local pub where she performs occasionally and was found by the casting director. Although new to this theater and having no professional training, she is no stranger to using her vocal talents. Singing is her favorite pastime in the world, enjoying a variety of different genres of music from musical theater and classical to oldies and folk songs from her native country, Ireland. She has only been in America for two years, but she already feels at home here. Her performance as Christine is dedicated to the memory of her family. **_Rath Dé ort_****!**

Hank was shocked by the quality of voice coming from such a young lady. As the musical continued, the songs that she sang struck different chords in his mind, keeping him on the edge of his seat. Kurt and Xi'an quietly exchanged ideas throughout the show, only to be shushed by Hank. The Professor glanced over at Hank intermittently, to see his envelopment into the story. During the last scene, the entire theater was silent and still in anxious anticipation as the interplay between Christine, the Phantom, and Raoul reached its climactic apex.

The audience was in a joyous uproar as the lights dimmed and the curtain closed. The cast presented themselves as they bowed for their curtain calls, and the audience continued to clap, but when the final characters came out, the audience again went crazy with whistles and thunderous applause as they stood in ovation. Raoul and the Phantom briefly left the stage a moment only to come back with roses for an overwhelmed Kady, and the roar of the crowd became even louder, Hank providing much of the added boost himself.

The Phantom and Raoul motioned to encourage her, who was speechless at the moment, to say something. The audience quieted down as she composed herself and managed to say with a gentle Irish accent to her voice, "Um, this has been such a wonderful experience for me: one of the best times I have ever had, doin' what I love to do." She broke a bit, wiped away a few tears, and continued. "I thank the cast, musicians, and crew for all the work they have put into this, and I hope that we were able to bring a bit of _ceol 's craic, _that is_ music and fun,_ into your lives." Another wave of deafening applause erupted from the crowd as Kady bowed with her male costars and the curtain fell.

~~~~~~~ Three Days Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hank was preparing his lunch in the kitchen as Logan walked in and hunched down to glare into the refrigerator, grabbing a cold bottle of soda from the fridge and grumbling, "Why can't we have some better drinks in this joint besides this crap for the kids?" Hank paid no attention to him as he continued putting his sandwich together, humming with a slight upward curl to his lips. Logan lowered and shook his head, then he took a long swig of his soda before saying, "I didn't go to the play for a reason, and I'm sure you ain't singing as well as they did, Blue, so shut up!" Hank jerked when he heard Logan shout, dropping the utensils in his hand and staring at Logan has he continued. "The whole mansion has been dealing with your constant background music, and I'm tired of that shit!"

"I apologize, Logan. I didn't realize that I had been affronting you with my harmonious endeavors, but it is difficult to liberate the music that is relentlessly playing in my mind without attempting to vocalize it myself."

"Whatever, just shut up for a while, okay?" he replied, brusquely leaving the kitchen.

As Hank started to work on his lunch again, he thought, _It is odd how fixated I am over the music of the play. Although, I believe my enjoyment came mostly from_… His thoughts were immediately interrupted as Bobby ran into the kitchen, out of breath and frantic. Hank, again, dropped his lunch in the abruptness of the young man's entry, but then he went over to the boy, placed a hand on his back and said, "Just calm down, take a breath, and tell me what has happened."

Bobby took a few deep gasps before replying, "Someone was found not too far from the edge of the property. We first heard the screaming, then when we followed it, we found her passed out on the ground, and then she started… convulsing, or something, then there was blood on her back coming from somewhere and…" He got frenetic again as he told this to Hank, running out of breath again.

"It's alright, Bobby. You did fine. Now, would you lead me to her so that I may verify she is well?" Bobby just nodded as he led them out of the kitchen and down the hall to head outside, but they were met with Scott, the unconscious girl curled up in his arms and the back of her white shirt drenched in blood. Hank dashed over to Scott to take the girl from his arms and rush her to the infirmary. When Scott carefully handed her over, the girl's neck rolled her head over to reveal the face of Kady O'Halloran.

*Author's Note*

Yes, I changed the title, although the summary is something to be desired. It will only let you type out so much. This is my first X-Men fan fic that wasn't immediately flamed, so I guess I can say that the previous flames stokes the fires of inspiration. Please review so I can get some advice on how the story is going… whether you like it or not! *laughs* But seriously, I would like to know what the readers think, so if you would leave a review on what you liked, didn't like, some suggestions about the title, the reviews would be greatly appreciated.

Write on,

Aldys Clairveux


	2. Chapter Two

_**Chapter Two**_

Several hours later, Kady stirred from her sleep. She faintly heard the monitors beeping behind her as her green eyes slowly opened. After a few blinks, her eyes focused and followed the tubing from a vein in her arm to a near empty packet of blood and a bag of saline hanging on the IV pole next to her bed.

Hearing a soft moan coming from the bed, Hank stood up from the desk at the other side of the room and walked over to Kady. He examined the monitors and IV bags as he spoke calmly, "It's superb to see that you are finally conscious, Ms. O'Halloran." Kady winced as she tried to prop herself up with the arm attached to the IV tubes. Seeing her painful effort, he turned to facilitate her efforts to move into a sitting position with pillows behind her back. "Is that more to your liking?" Her eyes closed as she nodded weakly. "Excellent," he replied as he headed back over to his desk to retrieve a rolling cart with various medical instruments on it, then he rolled it beside her bed.

After clearing her throat, Kady asked softly with a scratchy voice, "Um, doctor, I don't mean to sound discourteous, but where exactly am I?"

Hank looked to her with his eyes widened. "Oh, my stars and garters! How could I have failed to remember my manners?" He placed the blood pressure cuff back on the cart before he continued. "I am Dr. Henry McCoy, and you are currently in the infirmary at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

One corner of her mouth curled upwards slightly as her own eyes widened. "Xavier? As in Charles Xavier, the leader and activist for mutants' rights?"

"You are familiar with his work?"

She nodded, a kind smile on her face, as she cleared her throat then responded with a bit more energy, "I do, and I greatly admire his efforts."

"You do?"

"Absolutely. There are mutants out there that aren't a danger, and they want to live their lives normally and even strive to do somethin' great to benefit society, but because of the stigma placed on them by certain public figures and the mutants who ARE a threat, they are denounced and considered evil and dangerous, when that is not so." Her face flushed a bit as she cleared her throat again and said, "Anyway, I thank ya so much for takin' care of me, and um, do ya have any idea of how I got here?"

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "You don't recall how you arrived here?" She shook her head. "Well, all I can tell you, miss, is that a group of students here found you on the grounds, unconscious, and you were convulsing and…"

She dropped her head then looked up to him with an expression of embarrassment on her face as she finished for him, "Bleedin' from my back?" He stopped and stared at her with an expression that desired an explanation. "That happens sometimes when I don't get my treatment in a while. Ya see, I am, to say the least, anemic. If I don't go to the doc's for a transfusion, then I can pass out, but as for the bleedin' back, that is something that ya would hardly believe, because I hardly understand it myself."

"With all the things that I have seen as a doctor and as someone who works with Professor Xavier, there is scarcely anything that would disconcert me, Ms. O'Halloran."

"Alright then, if ya say so. There are times when I have these… episodes that I have flashbacks of my past. When my back is bleedin', my mind goes back to the time I was... attacked by an animal, and it scratched my back all up, and my body reacts as it if were happenin' again: screamin' and writhing in pain, bleedin' back. Once I get a transfusion, the bleedin' stops and I heal up quite nicely."

Hank nodded. "When I analyzed a bit of your blood earlier, I did see a type of anemia, so I thought that a transfusion would be advantageous to your health. As for the saline, I found small traces of trichloromethane and ethoxyethane, that is chloroform and ether, that were probably used in a form of knockout gas; although, there were substantial amounts of sodium thiopental that had me more concerned. You seem close to fully recovered from the effects of the drugs, but I would like to check you over once more before I discharge you, if you don't object, Ms. O'Halloran."

"No, I don't mind, Dr. McCoy. The only thing I object to is that ya keep callin' me 'Ms. O'Halloran'. There is no need to be formal with me. Just call me 'Kady'."

"As you wish, Kady," he replied. Hank then turned from her to look over the monitors by the bed to watch them for a moment before he detached the wires connecting her to the machines, leaving the nodes on her chest for her to remove herself. "Would you please lean forward a bit, Kady, so I can remove the dressings on your back?" She complied with his request, and he untied the back of her gown then slowly began to peel the tape holding bandage on. "Just inform me if I hurt you." Kady nodded as he continued to slowly remove the bandage.

Once the gauze was peeled away, Hank reached up to feel the skin of her back: completely healed with nothing but criss-crossed scarring and a bit of dried blood. "Phenomenal," he whispered to himself as he wiped her back with a moist cloth from the cart. "Do you normally heal at this rate?" he asked as he brought the stethoscope to his ears.

"Like I said, once I get a transfusion, I heal up just fine."

"I see; what a remarkable gift you have, Kady." He brought the stethoscope up to her back and said, "Now, take a couple of deep breaths for me." He listened closely as she breathed, moving the chestpiece around her back. "It sounds like there was no irreparable harm to your lungs due to the gas. Your throat may feel irritated and you may have brief fits of coughing, but it should subside over time. " Hank moved to her front, and he hesitated a bit as he asked, "Would you, um, lower the front of your gown for me, please? Just enough so I can listen to your heart."

A coy smile came to Kady's face because of his modesty, but she nodded and lowered the front of her gown so he could bring the chestpiece up. He closed his eyes as he listened attentively, leaning a bit closer to her now, causing Kady to lean back a bit and turn her head to the side. "Very good," he said as he straightened up, turning to get the blood pressure cuff from the tray as she pulled up the front of her gown. Staying silent, he wrapped the cuff around her arm, placed the chestpiece of the stethoscope in the crook of her arm, and squeezed the bulb. "Also very good," he said as he removed the cuff, took off his stethoscope and draped it over his neck, rolled the cart over to the wall, and carried a clipboard and a pen, scribbling some things down on the paper as he returned to her side. He raised a hand to her forehead then affirmed, "No fever," and jotted that down onto the paper on his clipboard.

Hank then sat in the chair next to the bed and asked, looking to her with a friendly smile, "Now, what is the last thing you recall before you awakened here?"

Kady' forehead rumpled in thought, then she adjusted herself in the bed and cleared her throat again before responding, "Well, after the play was over, I went to see my two male co-stars, Patrick and Joel, to wish them a final farewell and good fortune since we had our finale party earlier that night. Once I had seen them, I put on my normal clothes and headed out the back of the theater towards my motorbike to go home. Then a… big cloud of white mist suddenly blasted in my face. At first, I thought it was steam from the manhole in the street, but when I breathed in, my throat and lungs burned, and I felt dizzy. Everything went black after that. There were a few times that I saw dark, blurry images or heard some things like I was underwater and even sensing my body move as if I were underwater, but the only real thing I remember next is wakin' up here. When all this was happenin', I thought that it was my anemia actin' up, but I thought I was good until my transfusion this afternoon, right after the play was over, so I am only a few hours late right now."

Hank stopped writing and lowered the clipboard to tell her, "Kady, tonight is the third night after the play."

"Japers…" Her eyes suddenly went wide, her accent more pronounced and panicked as she continued to rant: "Shite, I'm really screwed now… Stephen is goin' to be so cheesed off. I was supposed to start workin' back at the pub once the play was over. Now, it's three days later, and I haven't showed up or even called. He's bound to be narky, that's for sure." She continued mumbling as she flung the covers off of her and started to get out of the bed.

Hank quickly stood, placed the clipboard on the foot of the bed, and moved in front of Kady, calmly taking her hands in his. "Slow down and compose yourself, Kady. It wouldn't facilitate the situation to be in a frantic haste right now. Take one thing at a time." He had a tender smile on his face as he spoke in a soothing tone, looking directly into her emerald green eyes for the first time, "If you're already three days late, what is another half an hour to make sure things are done correctly?" As if breaking himself from a pleasant trance, he cleared his throat before continuing: "First, let me withdraw the IV from your arm, then you can dress yourself and leave." Kady took a deep breath as she held out her arm to Hank, then once the tubes were removed, Hank told her, "You're belongings are placed in the drawer on the other side of the bed. Is there anything else that you require before you depart?"

Kady got out on the opposite side of the bed to retrieve her clothes then answered, "May I have a bit of water? I've got a throat on me."

"Certainly," he answered back as he turned from her to retrieve the water, allowing her to dress in privacy.

Kady held up a pink and black striped t-shirt with an electric guitar on it. "Not sayin' that I dislike this, but why is this in with my clothes?"

He chuckled while he came back to her, averting his eyes from her half-dressed body. "I believe that particular article of clothing was donated to the infirmary by Ms. Jubilee for others that have need of apparel. Your shirt was terribly stained, so I thought you would need something that didn't look like you murdered someone in it."

After she pulled on the shirt, she held up her shirt: washed but still deeply stained. "Yes, I think it would be rather absurd for me to go around with a blood-spattered shirt on." She placed that shirt on the bed and took the cup from Hank's outstretched arm. "Thank ya, Dr. McCoy."

"Now, if I'm not allowed to call you 'Ms. O'Halloran', I'm not permitting you to call me so formally, either. Please, call me 'Hank'." As he was speaking, Kady was glugging the water down at an astonishing rate. The glass was empty before he had even finished his sentence.

Kady set the glass on the bedside table before responding, "As you wish, Hank. I thank ya profusely for all your trouble, but I really must get goin'."

Kady began to make her way to the door before Hank stopped her to ask, "Do you have need of a taxi-cab?"

She looked out the door to see the sun setting through the hall window, and she shook her head. "No, thank ya, but it seems like it is goin' to be such a pretty night, and like ya said, if I'm already three days late, what is another hour or two?"

He then suggested: "Let me at least escort you out to the front gate then. The mansion is rather vast, and I'm sure you don't need to add 'getting lost' to your reasons for your extended absence."

"I would appreciate that, Hank. Thank ya."

Hank removed his glasses and placed them in the front pocket of his lab coat, and the other hand gestured towards the door. "After you, mademoiselle," he said with a bad, overly exaggerated French accent and a lowered head.

Kady raised a hand to her lips, holding back laughter, before replying with her own, smooth French accent, "Merci beaucoup, monsieur." She stepped out into the hallway, the walls shining orange from the light of the setting sun.

He caught up to her and commented, "It seems to me that you are a young lady of many voices, of which your melodic voice is most superior."

"I take it that ya enjoyed my performance the other night?"

"I throughly relished it, although it took much persuasion of others to get me to attend."

"Ah, I take it you heard the word 'musical', and it scared ya?"

"To be perfectly honest, I was fairly skeptical, but I was greatly proven wrong… which hardly ever happens."

"What was it that changed your opinion?"

"The story was intriguing, the acting was expressive yet realistic, and let's not forget the vocal talents of the actors: especially from a certain young starlet that stole the hearts of the audience."

"Aw, get on outta that; you're makin' me blush now."

"No, truly, you are a very talented young lady. It is difficult to accept that you had no professional training to perfect your vocal gifts."

"I just have an ear for music… I can pick notes out of the music I hear then play them on the piano; as for my singin', I've been doin' that since I was a child, and the more one practices, the better one gets."

"I must confess," he inhaled deeply in a pause, "I do not possess that gift. I had the music from the play stuck in my head ever since I left the theater, and many of the people that heard me trying to sing did not extol nor appreciate my attempts at musical advancement."

"I don't think I can help ya there, Hank," she responded with reserved laughter.

The two reached the front door, and he opened the door for her, the setting sun shining brightly in her face, making her quickly block the bright light with her hand. Once her eyes adjusted, she lowered her hand and continued to walk with Hank out to the front gate. Kady closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply. "Can you smell that: the aroma of the approachin' autumn season?"

Hank looked to her curiously with a raised brow after taking a breath himself. "What does that smell like?"

"It smells like cool, crisp air and a hint of apples and spices. The only other smell I like better is the smell of winter: Frasier firs, burnin' wood, and freshly fallen snow. It must be beautiful here with snow blanketin' the campus."

"Oh, it is. Although, I prefer the leaves in their bright, warm hues of red, orange, and yellow as to a stark white palette. Blue is harder to conceal when everything is white."

"Well, I would think that blue would be hard to hide in the warmer colors as well, but it is harder when it is all white. It was rather easy to spot ya in the box seats, though." They both laughed a bit as they reached the gate.

Hank pressed the buttons on the keypad to open the gate. "Are you sure you are not in need of a ride?"

Kady shook her head and smiled. "No, thank ya. I have to go by the theater to get my bike, then I'll be on my way to the pub. It was a pleasure to meet you, Hank," she said, holding her hand out to him.

His hand grasped hers. "No, Kady," he brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. "The pleasure was entirely mine. If you ever need anything or if the side effects I mentioned earlier do not subside, do not hesitate to return for help. That is my purpose here." He released her hand to place his glasses back on.

"Thank ya again for everything, Hank. And I leave ya with my favorite Irish blessing:

_May the road rise up to meet you,_

_May the wind always be at your back,_

_May the sun shine warm upon your face, _

_May the rains fall soft upon your fields, _

_And, until we meet again,_

_May God hold you in the hollow of his hand_."

With that, she smiled and began to make her way back to the theater.

*Author's Note*

A second chapter… a lot of work went into this chapter, believe it or not. I did a lot of thesaurus paging and Irish slang browsing to make the characters more real. I hope I have done that. Please review to tell me what kind of job I did: good or bad. If you want to find out what the Irish slang terms I used (Japers, cheesed off, narky, I've got a throat on me, get on outta that) mean, look them up on this website I found: www _dot_ irishslang _dot _co _dot_ za .I will be using more slang terms in future chapters, so remember the website!

Write on,

Aldys Annabel Clairveux })j({


	3. Chapter Three

_**Chapter Three**_

After eleven o'clock that night, Hank took his turn in performing nightly the bed check rounds. It was so quiet in the halls that he could hear the rain pelting heavily on the roof. All students were in their rooms, but there were a few rooms with students still up reading or on the computer that he would tell to get into bed to go to sleep.

When Hank reached Rogue's room, she was still on the computer at her desk. "It's after eleven, Marie. Lights need to be out, and students need to be in bed."

Rogue then asked sarcastically as she was typing away, "How much could I get if I bet that once you're done checkin' the rooms that you'll be goin' straight to the lab and workin' several more hours before goin' to bed yourself?"

Hank chuckled and answered with another question, "How much do you think I would win if I made a wager that everyone in this mansion thinks that you are a smart aleck?"

"Touché," she replied as she shut down her computer. Then she turned off the desk light and crawled into the bed. "G'night, Hank."

"Sleep well, Ms. D'Canto." He closed the door to her room and continued the evening room check with no further disruptions. On his way back to the lab, he passed the front door and heard the intercom at the entranceway beeping, causing his ears to perk up. He returned to the door to look at the screen that showed the feed from the front gate camera. The slender figure standing at the gate was hooded and drenched, arms crossed over the chest, with a book bag strapped on its back. Next to the figure was a motorcycle, smaller than any of Logan's, with a duffle bag and a helmet tied on the back seat.

The face of the figure was looking up at the gate away from the camera when Hank pressed the button on the intercom and asked, "Yes, can I help you?"

The figure faced the speaker, and Hank could then see Kady's face, squinting in the rain. "Yes, I hope ya can. I'm Kady O'Halloran. I was here earlier in the evenin', and I was told by Dr. McCoy that I could come here if I needed anythin'."

Hank replied, his smirk evident in his tone, "I remember offering that, but I also remember requesting that you call me 'Hank'."

Then recognizing the familiar voice, she chuckled and said, "Well, I didn't know it was you on the other end, now did I? But I'm gettin' a bit drenched out here, so would ya please let me in?"

"I think I might be able to manage that. Once the gate is open, just follow the driveway up the left side so you can park in the garage." He entered in the numeric combination to the gate then made his way toward the garage. Upon reaching his destination, Hank opened the garage door, and Kady slowly pulled in, parking close to the other motorcycles. She smiled as she climbed off her bike, pulled back the hood of her jacket, and took off her book bag.

She wiped her wet face on the even wetter sleeve of her jacket before he came up to her with a clean towel. "I thought you would need something to dry yourself."

She took the towel, thoroughly wiping her wet face before saying, "Thank ya. I was getting' soaked to the bone just drivin' around." Then she flipped her head over and rubbed the towel through her soaking wet curls; the hood on her jacket didn't do much to keep her dry.

"What happened to force you out into this inclement weather?"

She stood up straight again, taking off her jacket and wrapping the towel around herself before answering with a scoff, "That eejit Stephen and I had a huge row when I showed up at the pub, and he fired me. Not only did he have no compassion when I told him my reasons for bein' gone, he found someone else to take my place."

"And what about the place where you were residing?"

She sucked in a breath through her teeth and rolled her eyes. "Well, let's just say I slept where I made my bread," she replied before she turned to unstrap her duffle from her bike.

Hank raised an eyebrow as he asked, "You were residing at the pub?"

"Bingo. I had a free room upstairs while I worked at the pub, I kept the tips, my singin' brought in extra business… and I kept Stephen company a few nights a week while I was in the play since I wasn't workin' at night for the room."

His jaw dropped in shock. "You do realize that you could bring a suit against him for sexual discrimination and harassment in the work place, don't you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and picked up her bag. "He's not worth the trouble. Besides, the job was a Nixer."

"Pardon me?"

"Oh, sorry… Umm… a 'Nixer' is a job that someone has where they are paid on the hush-hush. To come right out with it, I was never on the official payroll of Kelleher's Restaurant and Pub, so if I were to bring in Stephen, I would get in trouble as well. Besides, if he does that again to the girl in his employ now, I know that she will be the one to get him in trouble."

"How are you so certain of that?"

"This girl is serving alcohol and keeping an older man company when she is not of legal age to do either. I'd much rather see Stephen suffer for that crime." She laughed a bit before removing the towel from her shoulders then putting back on her book bag. "Enough of that guff. It's behind me, and I'm better off."

He nodded and replied, "Quite right. You do not belong in the presence of cretins like him. Now, if you will just follow me, I can show you to a room."

Kady followed him out of the garage and into the hallways of the mansion. "I really do appreciate this, and I hope I'm not bein' any trouble."

"You are no trouble at all. I was up making sure everyone was in their rooms for the night when I passed by the intercom that was informing me that someone was at the gate. So if I wasn't up inspecting the rooms for bed check, you would still be standing out in the rain until someone else came to the door or you left." He stopped at a room at the end of the hallway and opened the door for Kady. "This is where you can stay. I am sorry that this isn't much, but…"

"Oh, but this is great. I don't have to worry about the noise from the pub, it's much cleaner here than at the pub, and there are no 'Stephens' here… there aren't, are there?"

He chortled then responded, "There may be a few men here that are not too gentlemanlike, but I don't believe that they compare to Stephen, the way you described him."

"Then this place is already a thousand times better than Kelleher's." She tossed her bags on the bed then turned back to Hank who stayed back at the door frame.

"Well, umm, this is the girls' hallway, and the community bathrooms are in the middle of the hallway, to the left and to the right. There are towels and more blankets up in the top shelf of the closet. If you need anything to eat or drink, I can show you to the kitchen, if you'd like."

She dug around in her duffle and pulled out a light robe to put on over her wet clothes then dug around a bit more as she said, "I think I will have a bit of tea, but I… just have to… ah, here it is." She turned and held up a small metal tin then walked out the room, and Hank closed the door behind her before leading her to the kitchen. Kady picked up the tea kettle on the stove and finding it empty, she took it to the sink to fill it.

He went to the cabinet and got out a cup for her. "Do you take any cream or sugar?"

"Just a bit of sugar for my night tea," she answered as she placed the now full kettle on the eye of the stove and turned it to high. "My night tea is a mixture of peppermint, spearmint, and chamomile, and that doesn't taste so good with cream in it. My breakfast tea, however, surely needs cream. What is said about true Irish breakfast tea is that it should be strong enough for a mouse to trot on: comparable to the common cup of mornin' coffee to get one up and goin' in the mornin'. I, personally, don't need it to wake me up, but it reminds me of home, no matter where I am."

"Ah, yes, one must always keep a remembrance of home. I read in the playbill that you came over from Ireland when you were only seventeen. Why did you immigrate here at such a young age, if you don't mind my asking?"

Kady's forehead wrinkled, and her hands started to fiddle with the metal tin as she explained, "Um… my mother and father were… killed when they were caught in the middle of a riot."

An expression of sympathy washed over Hank's face as he said, "Oh, I am sorry. I didn't mean to depress you by dredging up such a horrible moment; I was just inquiring, and sometimes my curiosity can get the better of me."

She shook her head. "That's alright. They're in a better place now, but that doesn't stop me from missin' them."

"Of course. So, to move on from that tender subject, what was it that drew you to America?"

"I wanted to get away from all the riots, for one, but the main reason was the presence of my great-uncle Frankie here in New York. When I called to tell him what had happened to my parents, he offered a room for me away from all the turmoil in our homeland. Coincidentally, he owned a pub also, and he lived in the rooms above it. I took care of him and even helped him manage the pub until he died of a heart attack about… ten months ago."

"How tragic. One should not be subjected to such loss at such a young age."

"Well, I can handle the pressure, and I have coped fairly well. Anyway, Uncle Frankie took good care of me while I was livin' with him. And not only did I have a place to live, I learned a lot about my family, and I learned a bit of the pub business too. Even with all that experience, I was still given an entry level job at Kelleher's, but in hindsight, I believe that my experience had little to do with my being hired. So much for the land of opportunity, eh?"

At that moment, the tea kettle started whistling, and Kady got up from her stool at the island where she was sitting across from Hank. She reached into the cabinet for another cup as she asked, "I'm sorry that I didn't offer earlier, but would ya care to share a cup of tea with me? It's my fault that you're up this late, and it's the least I can do to help ya get a good night's rest."

"I believe I would, Kady, thank you. I could use something to help me sleep, that is for certain."_ I do have some work to do, but I'll take a cup to humor her,_ he thought as she prepared his cup and placed it in front of him. She took her previous seat with the cup in her hands, eyes closed, and inhaled the steam deeply, encouraging Hank to repeat her ritual. "Ah, even the aroma in the steam has soporific properties."

He started to bring the cup to his lips, but Kady calmly placed her hand on his, lowering it a bit and saying, "I will warn ya that the tea is extremely hot. Besides, ya haven't allowed the tea to completely infuse into the water. If ya sipped it now, it would just be slightly flavored, sweetened water, so I'd give it a few more minutes to cool and brew."

He nodded and placed the cup back on the table while she continued to hold her cup up to her face, drawing in the steady flow of steam into her nostrils. "Now, there is a bit of business that must be taken care of in the morning with Professor Xavier if you will be residing here for an extended period of time. Would I be right in guessing that you probably do not have the funds needed for your stay?"

With a bit of a blush coming to her cheeks, she nodded her head. "Like I said before, I was paid very little for the actual work at Kelleher's because I worked for room and board and the only money I really saw was from tips that I saved which were still fairly meager compared to what I would need to stay here."

"Then maybe you could come to an arrangement with Charles. He is rather flexible when it comes to those that need assistance and have no way of monetary payment. You may even be able to attend some classes, if you wish to do so. You would have to meet with him in his office before his first class at 8:00 in the morning."

Nodding her head, she blew a bit on the hot liquid in the cup then replied, "Of course I can. Usually, I am up fairly early, so gettin' there for the meetin' shouldn't be a problem. Thanks again for takin' me in this late at night."

"You are most certainly welcome, Kady. You don't need to be out there in this weather, searching for a safe place to sleep for the night, especially after being evicted by such an… 'eejit' like Stephen," he responded, chuckling at his attempt at her slang.

Stifling her laughter, she smiled as she brought the cup to her lips, lightly blew on the tea, then took a small sip with her eyes closed. "Mmm… perfect."

With the positive comment about the tea, Hank brought his own cup to his lips and took a small sip, a smile starting to form. "This tea is extremely soothing and relaxing. I can understand why you drink it to help you sleep, because I believe it is working on me, Kady."

She nodded as she got up from her stool, her cup in one hand and her tea tin in the other. "Um, is it alright if I take this cup to my room, or do I have to keep the dishes in here while I'm using them?"

Hank took another sip from his cup then shook his head. "I think you can take that to your room, as long as you bring it back here in the morning. We are supposed to discourage the students from constantly taking dishes back to their rooms, because they hardly ever bring them back. So don't forget or else I'll get in trouble." He chuckled as he got up from his stool and began to walk toward the door to the hallway.

"Well, thank ya for lettin' me be an exception. Don't worry: I won't blab on ya." She followed him out into the hallway, walking toward the girls' hall. She turned back to him as he walked down the other end of the hall and called to him. "Thanks again, Hank."

He turned his head and replied, "You're most certainly welcome. Just be sure to meet with Charles before his classes start."

"Yes, sir. I won't forget. Good night." She continued down the hall then around the corner out of his sight before he stopped at the lab.

Gazing at the steaming cup of tea in his hand, he thought to himself, _There is still going to be work waiting on me when I wake up,_ and he continued on to his own room to give himself an early night: something he hasn't done in quite a while because of his devotion to his work, but something he surely needed. 

*Author's Note*

Sorry this chapter took so long to put up. I have the tendency to have an idea for something, know how it starts, then freeze when it comes to all the middle/transition parts. I really hope to get some feedback from the ones that do read this, and I'll take anything: good, bad, ugly… although, I hope not TOO ugly! Please rate and review! I need some feedback and comments about how you think the story is going, and what you might like to see later on in the story. I have some stuff that isn't going to change, but ideas are ALWAYS considered. Thanks again to those who have been reading, and I hope that what I have been writing is pleasing for you to read as it is for me to write and read.

Write on,

Aldys Annabel Clairveux })j({


	4. Chapter Four

_**Chapter Four**_

With a full night's sleep under his belt for the first time in over a month, Hank sauntered down the hall from his room with his mind fully awake, with energy in his step, and he hadn't even had his cup of morning coffee. Scott spotted him in the hall and caught up to him, greeting Hank with a bit of apprehension, knowing that Hank's morning demeanor was far from affable from too much work and too little sleep. "Good morning, Hank."

Hank turned his head to his younger friend then smiled as he replied, "Ah, Mr. Summers, morning salutations to you also. I presume that you slept well last night?"

Perplexed by this pleasant disposition, Scott hurried to block Hank with his hands out to stop him. "Wait one second: no grumpy disposition, fur clean and combed back without Twinkie crumbs, no bloodshot eyes from staring into microscopes and computer screens. Alright, who are you, and what have you done with Hank McCoy?"

Hank chuckled and placed a hand on Scott's shoulder, reassuring his friend, "I promise you that it is me, Scott. You are in the presence of a man who has had a substantive slumber. I had dismissed the memory of what it felt like to truly sleep, and now you have taken notice of this more congenial morning-time Hank as the aftermath."

"Well, I am impressed. With all those smarts you have, I thought you would have had the brains to figure out that sleep is a very good thing in order to process normally."

"I postulate that even the most astute man can neglect personal care and upkeep when important obligations get in the way; I just wasn't practicing what I was teaching to my own students about how basic a necessity sleep is for every properly-functioning biological organism."

"Uh huh… and food is necessary too, so let's go get something from the kitchen before the next classes start. I just hope all of the PowerBars aren't gone." After continuing several more yards down the hallways, passing other teachers and students as they separated into their classrooms, they detected a delectable aroma wafting past their noses as they got closer to the kitchen. "Mmm, it smells like someone went the extra mile for breakfast this morning and made something delicious for the rest of us."

"It also smells like someone left a horrendous mess in the kitchen making the delicious breakfast food because one was in a hurry to get to class on time, and that one didn't have time to clean up after him or herself."

Upon reaching the kitchen, the two men beheld two baskets of muffins, nearly empty, with the rest of the kitchen free of used mixing bowls, dirty spatulas and measuring cups, and muffin tins: the only sound in the kitchen the gentle hum of the dishwasher. "It looks like your nose deceived you, Hank, because I don't see a mess, but I sure see breakfast." Scott quickly grabbed a blueberry muffin and took a large bite. With his mouth still full, he said, spraying crumbs as he spoke, "And it tastes like breakfast too: a damn better breakfast than a PowerBar."

"Scott, there is no need for that uncouth language, and it's rude to talk with your mouth full." While Scott poured himself a glass of milk to go with his muffin, Hank picked up a piece of paper that he found between the two baskets of muffins and read it:

To staff and students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters:

I have prepared a couple of baskets of muffins for you to enjoy for breakfast: one is blueberry, and the other is peanut butter with strawberry jam. Please take just one muffin so there is enough for everyone. This is just a small token of my appreciation for what you are trying to accomplish here, as well as a way to break the ice with you. I hope that I get to know many of you in the future.

~ Kady })j({

Hank smiled as he placed the paper back on the counter and took a peanut butter and jam muffin for himself. Scott held out a glass of milk for him as he took a bite of his muffin. "It's good, isn't it, Hank?"

He closed his eyes as he chewed, relishing the flavors that graced his tongue: the tender texture, the slight salty sweetness of the peanut butter, and the surprise filling of the jam in the middle of the muffin. "Oh, my stars and garters! I may have tasted a pastry that has surpassed my normal sweet indulgence," he commented as he reached for the glass of milk.

Scott just stared in disbelief again. "Now I'm really worried that you're an imposter, because nothing is better than Twinkies to Henry McCoy."

Hank just chuckled and smiled at his friend, but when he glanced past the door, he saw a familiar face passing the kitchen. Wanting to speak with her, Hank glugged down the rest of his milk, wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve, took a large bite out of the muffin, then called out to Scott as he headed out of the kitchen, mouth full of muffin, "Make sure that you are not tardy to class, Scott."

Scott shook his head and laughed as he called back, "I thought it was rude to talk with your mouth full!"

Hank ran out into the hallway, weaving through the students and trying not to run into anyone, to catch up to Kady, walking with a notebook in her hand and a black canvas satchel slung over her shoulder. Once he was right behind her, he tapped her on the left shoulder while he was coming up on her right side. "It seems like you are quite the culinary genius, aren't you?"

Kady jumped a bit in surprise when Hank approached her without warning. Playfully hitting him with her notebook, she remarked, "Alright, ya liked my muffins, but ya didn't have to scare me like that now."

"Oh, but I did. Those muffins that you baked gave my favorite confection a run for their money, and because of that, you have a long-time colleague of mine second-guessing my identity. I assured him it was me, but I do not believe he is completely convinced that I am who I say I am." She shared a laugh with him before he asked in a more serious tone, sounding more like a question than a statement, "I trust that your delicious delectables did not keep you from meeting with the Professor."

She shook her head and smiled. "Nope. I made the muffins before the meetin' with Professor Xavier. Just a little somethin' to at least say 'thank ya' for allowin' me to spend the night if the Professor said I couldn't stay. I just had a feelin' he would say 'yes', I trusted my intuition, and made them anyway."

"Ah, I see. So what arrangement did you and Charles construct about your residing here and attending classes?"

"Well, I get to attend classes and stay in a room, and I do a little custodial work at night before I go to sleep. And who knows? I may take some extra time to keep makin' special things for breakfast if others here enjoy them as much as you do, and that would be no extra cost."

She smiled, but Hank frowned when he asked, "Why have you been assigned to custodial duty? Surely there was some other task better suited for a young lady."

"Well, someone has to do it, don't they? Custodial work here compared to custodial work at Kelleher's is a cakewalk, especially since I'm not the only one doing it here. And if you're worried about my 'talents' goin' to waste, I will also be assistin' in the music and drama classes as well. I asked the Professor about takin' those classes, but he thought I could lend my gifts to make the class better for the other students here. Because of his kindness, I offered to clean up around the mansion for a small payment so I can save money to make it on my own."

"I was about to say… if Charles was inconsiderate enough to just place you in a janitor's uniform, I was going to have a very serious discussion with him. Anyway, where is the destination of your first class?"

"Just now I'm headin' to an English class, taught by Emma Frost… wherever room 143 is located."

"Oh, I believe you will thoroughly enjoy that class, and I know we are almost there; it's a few more doors down from here. And what is the rest of your schedule for the day?"

"Then I have the drama class to help with, then I have lunch, then it's music, then time to do my classwork or take a nap, then dinner, then cleanin', then sleep. That is my schedule, until I am told differently."

"What about the sciences and math? One needs to have a well-balanced curriculum to be a truly educated person."

"I guess you are in charge of teaching in those areas, aren't ya? No offence to ya, Hank, but I know so much in those areas already, that I don't need to be takin' them again just to learn what I already know or learn more than I would use."

"So you believe you know everything in those areas, do you?"

"Well, I don't remember the atomic number of all the elements or how to calculate the velocity of a bowling ball dropped on Mars, and I don't care to relearn how to determine the time of two trains meetin' in Boston when one starts in Augusta, Maine, travelin' at 55 miles per hour, and the other train leaves Charleston, South Carolina, travelin' at 63 miles per hour, but I know what I need to get by as a normal person. I suppose if I were to become a doctor like you, it would be helpful to know how to do those things proficiently, but my forte is in the arts, so I don't have much need for those subjects. Besides, aren't math and sciences basically the same in every country?"

"Hmm. That is a very well thought out explanation, Kady, but I still think it would be advantageous to take at least one science course while you are here. They are not like classes anywhere else you have attended."

"Ha, you may be right. I'll see if I can fit a class in my schedule somewhere, but don't hold your breath; I don't want ya turnin' blue on me now." She stifled her laughter, not knowing how he would take it. Hank laughed as well as they both stopped in front of room 143 for her literature class. "I guess I'll see ya later. Try not to bore your students too much in your class, alright?" She smiled and made her way into the classroom, several of the students coming up to her, either talking about her performance, complimenting her food, or in the case of some of the boys in the class, looking her over.

Hank noticed her mild-mannered reaction to all of this attention; her cheeks blushed slightly as she thanked them humbly before sitting down when the bell rang. "Oh no, I'm late," he reminded himself, and he rushed down the halls to get to his awaiting classroom: the first time that the teacher had been late to his own class.

***Author's Note***

Sorry for the late update, but with no comments about how the story is going or suggestions of what they would like to see happen, and with writer's block to boot, I worked hard to get this out when I did. Please review so I can have something to go on. I would like to continue this story for my own, but what good is a story when you have no one to share it with? Happy Father's Day, and happy reading!

Write on,

Aldys Clairveux


	5. Chapter Five

_**Chapter Five**___

With a smile on her face, Kady shyly entered into room 143. Half of the students that were already in conversations suddenly stopped when they noticed the new student enter the classroom. When they came up to her, she was barraged with compliments from many of the female students that saw her perform the other night and from the other students that enjoyed her food. Her face flushed with heat because of all the extra attention to her: especially the way some of the boys in the class had their eyes hungrily fixed on her.

She raised her hands in a gesture for them to calm down as she said in a soft tone, "Thank ya, thank ya very much, but as much as I'd love to talk to ya now, I think that we need to sit down for class." She then took an empty seat along the far wall of the classroom, placing her satchel on the floor, as the other students sat in their seats. The teacher removed her own satchel from her shoulder and situated everything for her class to begin.

"Good morning, everyone. I am guessing that I do not need to introduce our new student, Kady Coraline O'Halloran, since so many seem to know her, but I would like to formally introduce myself." She walked toward Kady's side of the room, a friendly smile gracing her face, and said, "Kady, I am Emma Frost, welcome to the school, and welcome to my English class. I hope that you will find this class enjoyable."

Kady demurely covered her eyes with her hand at the students' applause then replied, "It is great to meet ya, Ms. Frost. I'm sure that your class will be very nifty."

"I certainly hope that the class will be 'nifty'. Here is the book we will be using today, and later, I will give you a syllabus for the class." She held out a book and handed it to Kady before returning to the desk, sitting on the edge. "Now, you have actually come into the class at the perfect time, Kady; you have missed all of the boring mechanical aspects of introducing poetry, and we are now getting into the meaning behind what the authors wrote: not analyzing the structure and style, but digging into the roots why people write poetry. The reason of the rhyme, so to speak, although I will attempt to keep myself from getting all Dead Poets' Society on you." The students laughed a bit as she moved back from Kady to address the whole classroom.

"When we first began studying poetry, we discussed that the chief purpose for writing poetry is what?"

An Asian girl, dressed rather originaly, raised her hand and answered when Emma motioned at her. "To express and share emotions and experiences."

"Correct, Jubilee. I can see you paid attention. She is absolutely right. That is poetry's sole purpose. When writing books, there is usually a fixed structure to them: paragraphs, grammar rules, chapters, et cetera. And the style is usually fairly linear and easy to follow... unless you have those stories that go back and forth from present to past then jump into the future, and you all know how I feel about those books. But books, whether fiction or non-fiction, usually are written with their audiences in mind: will they be able to understand all the vocabulary and subtle nuances I wrote into it? Is it something that readers will want to buy and share with others? But poetry is written from the heart of the writer that demands only satisfaction from the authors themselves. It is a form of art that paints vivid images with its colorful vocabulary. Yes, fiction books do that as well, but with poetry, it doesn't care what the reader thinks because it is raw emotion." Emma ended that with a growl before composing herself and turning to the dry-erase board to pick up a marker.

"I want you to shout out some different emotions to me, and I'll write them out as you call them." Many voices said "love" right off the bat. "Ah, love... that is a major muse and inspiration for many a poem throughout history. Whitman, Browning, Yeats, Shakespeare, even Elton John are just a few authors who took command of the English language and molded it into something so beautiful to melt the hearts of lovers for years and years to come. There are different stages of love that are all expressed in poetic form, but we will burn that bridge when we get to it. Now that we have gotten that obvious emotion out first, what are some other emotions that have been penned down?" Emma wrote each emotion out on the board as the students called them out: anger, joy, grief, and appreciation just to name a few.

Putting the marker down and facing the students again, she picked up her book and thumbed through the yellowed pages while explaining, "Those few are just a drop of the emotions that are expressed through poetry. With each emotion, there are many facets to what it may just appear to be on the surface. Like I said earlier with love: there is new love, enduring love, lost love, unrequited love, waning love, struggling love, passionate love, epic love, and the possibilities are endless! That goes with every single emotion that there is: there are new perspectives on certain things, and the authors manifest them through their poetry to let others know how they feel and how they deal with those emotions. Let me take a quick poll here: how many students in here keep a journal?"

No one raised their hands as they all suspiciously looked around the room. "No, I'm not going to be searching for your journals to peek into your inner most secrets. I'm just asking how many of you keep journals?" There were a few students that raised their hands, and Emma noticed that the only ones that had hands raised were ladies. "It seems like the men aren't really the ones to keep journals. So ladies, may I ask why you keep journals?"

Kady replied, "To vent out emotions. There may be times that I am strugglin' with somethin', so I just write it all out, and not wantin' to be the teacher's pet or nothin', but I often do scribble out poems, even addin' the works of other authors that may have experienced similar things that I have and writin' them out."

"Well, that is definitely something that others do as well. Journaling out emotions into poems is sometimes even used in therapy sessions... not saying that you need therapy, Kady." The students laughed again, Kady joining in with them knowing that her comment was not meant to be an insult, as Emma continued, "It is a very helpful tool for people that have a hard time understanding their feelings, and just in general, it is just another way to get those feelings out: whether it be creative writing, art, music, theater, what have you. All of those arts are important in everyday life." She paused a moment and sidestepped as if pretending to step down from a box. "Enough of this pubic service announcement from my soapbox. Any other reason why the ladies write out their lives on the page?"

A young lady sitting in the front said, "To help me remember what happened that day. I don't really have a good memory for things, so if I don't write them down, I usually forget."

"To remember events in your life: a very good reason. In their own unique way, poems can do that as well. Some poems come straight out with what happened, using everyday language in a real life setting. Other poems can tell a very similar experience, but with changing the type of language and making the setting a bit more surreal, the poem could convey a totally different aura about that same event. It all depends on how you write it, and that is what is so amazing about all sorts of creative writing, not just poetry."

She moved back to the dry-erase board but still facing the students. "With these different emotions written out, the majority of the work for these lessons on poetry will be for each student to one: find a poem, or a song because songs are poetry too, written by another author that conveys a certain emotion that I will assign to you. Then two: discuss some those pieces in class." The students started to high five each other over the easy homework load for the poetry lessons, but Emma raised her hand and interrupted their early celebration. "Do you really think I would be letting you off that easily? The more challenging part is in the other section of assignments; after our discussions over the poems in class, I want you to write you own poems centered on that particular emotion. Then they will be brought to class to share."

"But what if those poems we write are personal?"

"Or just plain bad?"

"I have the solution for that in case someone was to ask just that." She then took out a container with slips of paper in it and started to pass it around the class. "Each of these slips of paper has a number on it. I want you to remember that number, put your name on the slip of paper, then drop it back in on your way out today. That number will be the only identifying mark on the paper to let ME know who wrote what when I pick up the poems and redistribute them for anonymous, peer analyses and discussions in this class. You got that?" Reluctant, yet affirmative, responses are heard as she passed out the last numbers then returned to the board.

"Excellent, and I think for your first assignment, I should make it fairly easy for you that are scared to jump right into the hard stuff, so I will assign the first emotion to be love. Now, I hope to find some diversity in your choices, and I hope I don't have everyone handing in copies of Shakespeare's sonnets, because if you do, everyone will have to redo the assignment. Understood?" Unenthusiastic confirmatory responses are heard again from the students. "Superb. The third part of the assignments during our study of poetry is just to gather all of the poems you have collected and written for class and contain them in a notebook. If any of you need some extra credit, put some extra pieces in there that you didn't turn in for assignments."

Emma made her way back to her desk, pulling out a syllabus from the drawer just as the bell rang. The students quickly gathered their books and made their way out, dropping off their bits of paper as they passed by the desk. When Kady approached, Emma held out the syllabus for her. "I can't wait to read what you write for the class, Kady. I am sure you have a lot of experiences that are just waiting to be shared."

Kady gave a skeptical, but light-hearted, chuckle and replied, "I do, but I don't think that many want to hear about all the experiences I have to share. Have a good day, Ms. Frost." She took the syllabus with a smile, dropped off her slip of paper, and made her way off to help with Kurt's drama class.

*Author's Note*

Chapter five… Yes! Finally! I've been recently inspired and working on my original story, coincidentally inspired by this story, and I got stuck on this story, to be quite honest. I know this story has been favorited, and I'm glad that someone that is reading this is liking it! THANK YOU! And Phoebe, thank you for posting your reviews. It made me smile big! I would really appreciate some feedback from more of you: what you liked, didn't like, where you think the story may be going, why those that favorited it did so… authors like to know why their work is appreciated. I do have future chapters written, but I have to get to them first! Any ideas will be greatly accepted!

Write on,

Aldys Clairveux })j({


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